


Time It Was

by MariaPriest



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 06:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16805128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaPriest/pseuds/MariaPriest
Summary: A look at how the warrior in Jack and Teal'c gives them a special bond despite their differences.





	Time It Was

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2013 sg1friendathon on Live Journal. The prompt was:  
> Jack and Teal'c: They'd both seen too much to be innocent.

Time it was and what a time it was, it was  
A time of innocence, a time of confidences.  
\-- _Bookends_ by Paul Simon

_Cold Lazarus_ (Season 1) – episode tag

O’Neill, having finished giving General Hammond a report on his very brief return to the planet of the talking crystals, turned to the rest of SG-1 seated at the conference table.

“How about a little nosh in the cafeteria?” he proposed. “I hear the new cook makes a mean pumpkin pie. My treat.”

Teal’c cocked his head to one side. “How is it possible for a pie to be ‘mean’? And is not the nourishment in the cafeteria without cost to those on this base?”

“’Mean’ in this case, Teal’c, means, um, ‘good’ or ‘really good,’” explained Jack. “And ‘my treat’—“

“Means Jack is cheap,” finished Daniel.

“Daniel,” said Jack with just the slightest trace of menace in his voice and a sinister arch to one eyebrow. Daniel simply gave Jack his best Cheshire cat grin.

Hammond chuckled quietly at the two, while Carter rolled her eyes. “Come on, Teal’c. I’ll explain _all_ the possible meanings on our way.”

****

O’Neill and Teal’c sat alone at a corner table, drinking the last of a pitcher of milk, having been abandoned by the super-geeks, as Jack dubbed them when they had to hurry off because some science-y thing beckoned them.

“I did not know you had a son, O’Neill. Until today.”

For a long moment, Jack contemplated the nearly empty glass that he slowly twirled on the tabletop. Without looking at Teal’c, he responded matter-of-factly, “Yep. ‘Had’ being the operative word.”

Teal’c searched for words to ease the pain he was sure his new friend was feeling. When none came, he tried to imagine what he would want to hear if _his_ son had died by his own father’s unintentional—of that he was certain in O’Neill’s case—carelessness.

Yet nothing came to mind. He would be inconsolable. For the rest of his long life. No words existed in any language he knew that could ease such pain and guilt.

Eventually, Teal’c whispered, “So it is.”

Jack stopped playing with the glass. He remained perfectly still, chest barely moving with breath, for several minutes. He snorted lightly, spoke so softly that even Teal’c’s exceptional hearing had trouble picking up the words. “At least he won’t grow up to be like his old man. He’ll always be an in-…a sweet, little kid.”

It didn’t take much for Teal’c to figure out what “old man” meant in this context. Despite being unsure what the customs were in situations such as this, Teal’c felt the need to say or do something. With caution, he placed his hand on O’Neill’s forearm.

O’Neill’s muscles felt tense but the Taul’ri made no movement to withdraw or to request he remove his hand.

Since this action seemed appropriate, Teal’c decided he would say what he felt. “It would be most fortunate if he were to grow up to be like his father.”

All the meanings behind what Teal’c said hit O’Neill like a ton of bricks. Wet, hot salt stung his eyes, and he thought he could no longer breathe. Quickly composing himself, he pushed the glass away with his free hand, then, slowly, nervously, placed it atop Teal’c’s.

_Thor’s Hammer_ (Season 1) – in the labyrinth

“Just relax, Teal’c, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

O’Neill’s words echoed in Teal’c’s mind repeatedly as they explored the cave. They echoed until it dawned on Teal’c that O’Neill was more than his friend. Something he, the brutal, all-too-effective First Prime of the sadistic Goa’uld Apophis, did not deserve.

But here, on this planet, was something he did deserve: the slow, painful, lonely sentence of death.

“O’Neill.”

Jack stopped, looked at Teal’c. In his name, he heard tragedy. In the not-quite-impassive face, he read sorrow and resignation. “No, you don’t.” He placed his gloved hand on Teal’c’s cheek for a moment. “Let’s get this search rolling. It’s not like the exit’s gonna jump up and bite us on the ass.”

Teal’c cocked his head to one side. “That would be . . . interesting.”

_Bloodlines_ (Season 1) – episode tag

O’Neill knocked on the door to Teal’c’s quarters and waited briefly before opening it. “Mind if I . . .”

There was Teal’c, sitting cross-legged on the floor, with a semi-circular array of lit candles before him.

“D’oh. Déjà view all over again,” O’Neill muttered.

Teal’c looked up at the man partway in his room. “You are most welcome, O’Neill.”

O’Neill couldn’t help but cringe when he pulled the chair from the desk and sat backwards in it, strengthening his sense of been-there-done-that. “So, wanna talk about it?”

The Jaffa took a deep breath, then said, “I have failed in my mission.”

Jack drummed his fingers on the chair’s back while he pondered what to say, because Teal’c had probably said all he was going to say. He admitted he was jealous of Teal’c, or at least jealous of the fact that Teal’c still had a living son, but the man still needed some solace. Or reassurance. Or something.

He decided to try a combination. He crossed his arms atop the chair back and cleared his throat. “It wasn’t a total failure, Teal’c. You did get to see your family, your team got to meet them, and you got to see a really old guy kick my ass and punch out a bunch of Jaffa.” He paused. “And you found out that we’re not the enemy.”

“On all this, I agree, O’Neill. But my son –“

With a wagging finger, O’Neill interrupted Teal’c. “Nuh nuh nuh, big guy. Your son has a chance now. You couldn’t stop the implantation, but you’re still working on the freedom thing for him. When you get down to it, isn’t that the more important of the two?”

Teal’c considered this statement. After a few seconds, he nodded his head. “On this I agree as well, O’Neill. However, that does not negate the fact that I failed him in the first. I do not want Ry’ac to . . . do what I have done in my life.”

Jack sighed and stood. He put one hand in his pocket while he wound his way around the candles to stand by Teal’c. “Ya know, except for this”—he made circular motions around his belly—“having the experiences you’ve had is probably a really good thing. Look what it did for you. You’re a freedom fighter.” He smiled and touched Teal’c’s shoulder. “I trusted you from day one. Now, trust me; he _will_ be free one day.”

Teal’c’s vocal cords seized with emotion. He believed O’Neill. He believed that Ry’ac would one day be free, with the help of O’Neill’s strength and tenacity, and that of Daniel Jackson and Captain Carter. He swallowed several times to relax his throat. “I know this to be true, O’Neill. And I trust you as I have trusted no other in my life.”

Jack almost staggered under the power of his friend’s declaration, and the responsibility that came with it. After blinking several times to recover himself, he finally said with a comparable seriousness, “Right back atcha, Teal’c.” He tapped his fingertips a few times on Teal’c’s shoulder, then headed to the door.

About halfway there, he turned around. “One more thing. Is Bra’tac really 133? I mean, it’s bad enough that a guy over 100 bruised my ass, but anything much over 120, 122, really would bruise my ego.”

Teal’c gave O’Neill an imperious lift of an eyebrow. “Master Bra’tac is indeed 133 years old. Perhaps there is some salve to apply to your injured ego?”

Jack wondered if Teal’c was serious or making a joke. He shook his head to clear out that weird thought. “Yup. It’s called ‘beer.’”

_Cor’ai_ (Season 1) – episode tag

Teal’c stood in the doorway of O’Neill’s office. “I have already spoken with CaptainCarter and DanielJackson to thank them once again for their . . . actions on Cartago. I wish to thank you again as well, O’Neill.”

Jack put down the pencil he’d been playing with. “No need to thank me, Teal’c. You’re an important member of my team and I wasn’t gonna let them have you for any reason. Period.”

Teal’c nodded once, slowly. He walked into the room to come to stand before O’Neill’s desk. “It was within your rights to leave me to the justice I deserved on that planet, O’Neill.”

“What are you talking about, within my rights?” He stood and leaned across his desk, challenging Teal’c.

“It is within your rights as leader of the team. What I did before joining the Tau’ri’s fight against the Goa’uld was reprehensible. Not only on Cartago, where I took more than just a father from his son, but on many other planets and moons as well.”

Jack gave a loud sigh. “We’ve been _over_ this, Teal’c. Your choices stank on lots of planets, but on Cartago, I know you _did_ choose the lesser of the two evils. Besides, you’re, uh, rehabilitated now.”

“That does not excuse what I did. For many decades now, I have known that I must pay for my actions.”

In a tight whisper, O’Neill said, “Then I deserve exactly what you do too, Teal’c. I should pay, too.” _Hell, I pay for them every damn day and night_.

“I am aware that you have performed some ‘damned, distasteful things’ in the service of your country, as I have in the service of Apophis. You are a warrior and it is your duty. However, I doubt you have committed murder.”

 _So, Carter told him what I said in Hammond’s office. Well, it’s no secret that black ops **is** damned and distasteful_. “Depends on what your definition of ‘murder’ is.”

Teal’c lowered his head in thought for a few moments. When he raised his head, he thought O’Neill’s eyes looked abnormally shiny—just as his must look to O’Neill.

Jack picked up the pencil and tapped his desk rhythmically with its eraser. He sighed. “How about we head for the gym and you teach me some more moves with a staff?”

Teal’c nodded slowly. “It would be my pleasure.”

For some stretch of time, while they let their bodies move, stilling their brains, they didn’t think of death, orders, choices taken and not taken, condemnation, punishment, redemption.

_Prisoners_ (Season 2) – on P2A-509, the planet where SG-1 and Linea first went after the escape from Hadante

After gobbling down most of SG-3’s rations and drinking all the team’s fresh water, O’Neill declared it was time to go home.

On the short walk to the DHD and its ‘gate, Jack and Teal’c pulled up the rear. They watched the backs of the others, both noting that Carter and Linea were deep in conversation. Jack said softly, “So, that knife wound doing okay, Teal’c?”

“Yes. It is fully healed.”

“Ya know, it still bugs me that at times, I’m glad you’ve got Junior, even though it is a Goa’uld.”

“I am glad as well, O’Neill.”

“Thanks for taking that knife for me.” He paused, not sure how to phrase his next thanks. “And I really appreciate you helping me protect Daniel from those especially, uh, _icky_ predators. I really didn’t want the same thing happen him that happened to . . .” He let the sentence trail off, furious with himself that he had revealed way more than he intended. Even though he was sure that Teal’c knew all about it in a general sense; for a warrior, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to complete his sentence.

Teal’c, now watching Daniel Jackson dial Earth, said, “No thanks are necessary. My protection of DoctorJackson was a selfish one. I, as did you, did not wish for him to experience that which I have experienced.”

Teal’c’s revelation snatched the breath from O’Neill’s lungs. Of course it was reasonable, even likely, that Teal’c had gone through that. It was just difficult to imagine that _Teal’c_ could have been overpowered or … he had to stop thinking about this. Now, as with his own “experience,” he tucked this new fact away and hoped it would only run in the background of his consciousness, the way his own fact did.

O’Neill placed a hand on Teal’c’s back. “Home, James, and don’t spare the horses.”

The Jaffa appreciated the comfort and understanding that O’Neill somehow conveyed through his touch. “Who is James?” Teal’c asked as they passed the DHD.

“Lucy’s brother,” Jack replied, and they stepped through the stargate.

_The Game Keeper_ (Season 2) – episode tag

Sam and Teal’c walked into the gym to find it occupied only by their team leader. O’Neill was working the heavy bag furiously and appeared not to notice their entry. Instantly, Teal’c recognized that O’Neill was also working something else out, just as he was.

“CaptainCarter, if it is agreeable with you, I would like to start your lesson after I speak with O’Neill privately.”

Sam furrowed her brow slightly, not understanding why Teal’c felt this sudden urge to talk with the colonel alone. She shrugged her shoulders and said cheerfully, “No problem, Teal’c. I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.”

The door closed soundlessly behind her. Teal’c, hands clasped behind his back, came to stand by O’Neill. When it became apparent O’Neill was not going to speak, Teal’c said, “I was grateful that the game keeper did not give me a second chance.”

Jack eased up a little on the punching but didn’t break his rhythm. He thought it was just like Teal’c to get to the point. Which he almost always appreciated, this being one of those times. “Yep. Good thing, that. Guess I’ll be more careful what I wish for in the future.” Now, thanks to that idiot keeper, he couldn’t get John’s death out of his head and back into its box.

“Indeed.” He continued to watch O’Neill hit the bag while he summoned up his courage to admit out loud that he, too, had been affected by the replays of O’Neill’s fateful mission in East Germany. “All losses are painful, but some are more so than others.”

O’Neill stopped. Placing a gloved hand on top of the bag, he stared at it. The Jaffa was reminding him of his humanity, despite everything he’d done, seen, relived, of his understanding that the loss of John Michaels hurt more than most, the wound of which had never healed and now was bleeding again, and of their common ground as warriors and what they had and must continue to endure. “That they are.” He faced his friend.

Jack was shocked to see unexpected sadness and pain lurking in the dark brown eyes.

The shock quickly disappeared when he realized that the fruitless re-enactment of that botched East Germany mission would have stirred up memories of significant losses for Teal’c. And he finally became conscious of what else had been battering his soul: interacting with a “live” Charlie Kawalsky, which only served to remind him and Teal’c that he had sentenced his good friend to death—and Teal’c had been the executioner.

“To . . . absent friends?”

Teal’c dipped his head in agreement. “I wish you to know that I am most thankful for _this_ second chance.”

O’Neill nodded. “No problem.” Thanks to Daniel and the Stargate program, he was living his second chance, too.

Jack jabbed the bag a few times, coming a little closer to closing the Michaels and Kawalsky wounds again. He stopped once more and said, “Teal’c, when I think you’re ready, I’ll teach you how to box. It’s a sport that requires strength, speed, endurance, strategic thinking, fast feet, and a hard head.”

Teal’c eyed O’Neill with some suspicion. “I meet all the qualifications now, O’Neill. Why have you not yet instructed me in this sport?”

“Um, well, truth is, big guy, I’m upping my training so you won’t beat the crap outta me first time out.”

“That is indeed wise, O’Neill.”

_The Other Side_ (Season 4) – episode tag, very soon after SG-1’s return

O’Neill, continuously crossing and uncrossing his arms on his chest, watched from a distance the doctor and the nurse practitioner give Carter and Daniel a quick post-mission exam. He ignored the sweat building in his armpits and back. All he could think about was what he had done and how he was going to tell Hammond.

Though he didn’t hear Teal’c approach—no one ever did, unless the warrior wanted it that way—he felt his steady presence. Yet he took no comfort from it.

Teal’c, with hands clasped behind his back, stood by O’Neill. “You are . . . thinking that MajorCarter and DanielJackson believe what you and I did on Euronda was murder and they will ask for transfers to other teams,” he said loud enough only for O’Neill to hear.

“No, I’m thinking about what to have for dinner tonight,” he responded sarcastically. He rolled his eyes, perturbed with himself at the uncalled-for animosity toward the one man who understood him like no other. “Sorry. I’m a little on edge. And yes, I _was_ thinking about that.” He took a deep breath, then gestured while he said, “Pretty sure Carter will come around, but I don’t think Daniel ever will. No matter what I say, he’ll see why I started the dominoes falling as a temper tantrum.”

“I do not entirely disagree with DanielJackson.”

“Thanks for your support and loyalty, Teal’c.”

Teal’c paused to smile inwardly at the sarcastic remark. “I believe that to be a minor secondary cause of action. As you know, we did what we must to free innocent people from a prolonged death at the hands of their own kindred.”

“Even Alar’s death?”

“He was warned not to follow us and he was aware of the probable consequences. He followed, so he died. Had he not followed, he would have died.” Teal’c paused momentarily. “That was the only just outcome.”

Silence indicated O’Neill’s agreement. “Whether what we— _I_ did was right or wrong, it was still _only_ my responsibility.

“On the contrary, O’Neill. You did not command me to provide escort. I made the decision to do that. Therefore, I am responsible as well.”

“T, I’m –“ O’Neill stopped at the corrective eyebrow Teal’c had lifted. “Fine. _We_. _We_ helped bring down the, uh, underworlders. Maybe I should’ve just walked away and took you with me. It wasn’t our place to interfere.”

“Once again, I disagree, O’Neill. The underworlders chose many years ago to annihilate their own kind for not conforming to an unnatural existence. It was most fortunate that Alar and his people had failed so as to give SG-1 the opportunity to right a wrong before they were successful in their plan. In interfering, did we not save countless lives in the future?”

“Maybe. Probably.” O’Neill huffed out a noisy breath. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath, “sometimes, I get really . . . sick of having to make decisions.”

Able to hear him, Teal’c nodded in empathy. “If you were not disturbed by this incident, I would be greatly disappointed in you, O’Neill. You would not be the man I have come to consider my brother.”

Jack’s lips turned up slightly. “Thanks, T,” he said, patting the Jaffa on the shoulder.

“Do not worry about DanielJackson, O’Neill. I will . . . _assist_ him in understanding the rationale behind your actions on Euronda.”

Jack’s lips bowed into a full-fledged smile.

_Crossroads_ (Season 4) – episode tag

O’Neill sighed heavily as General Hammond disengaged the speakerphone feature and waved him out of the office. He left, but not willingly. He still had a lot of fight left in him to get Teal’c what he needed for Shaun’auc’s burial on Earth. He felt pretty confident that Hammond was shoeing him away and turning the conversation private keep him from blowing the whole thing.

But dammit, this was important to the big guy! And the man asked for so little and gave so much.

Without thinking, he found himself at Teal’c’s door. He knocked and paused a moment before entering. As he expected, Daniel and Carter were there, too. “Got room for one more? We could play bridge. Or hearts. How about Go Fish? Monopoly? Candyland?”

“Come in, O’Neill. I do not want to play games this evening.”

Jack nodded a few times and said quietly, “Carter, Daniel, how about getting us a table in the cafeteria for a little early bedtime snack.”

“But, Jack –“ Daniel began his protest in earnest.

Carter, though, interpreted the you-don’t-have-a-choice-so-get-your-butts-in-gear look on the colonel’s face much better than Daniel did. “Come on, Daniel. They’ll join us soon, won’t you, Colonel?”

O’Neill flashed Carter a quick thanks with his eyes and replied, “T and I will be right behind you.” The two of them watched Carter gently hustle a reluctant Daniel out of the room.

“So, Teal’c, no decision yet on Shaun’auc’s, um, burial site. But you know how the general is. Hammond will sweet-talk ‘em into agreeing.”

Teal’c simply looked at O’Neill for several breaths. “Tanith will pay for what he has done. It is my right as Shaun’auc’s prime belovéd to exact revenge on the . . . creature that murdered her.”

“Teal’c –“

The Jaffa cut off O’Neill with a sharp wave of his hand. “It is my _right_ , O’Neill. You cannot stop me. Tanith’s death is justified and therefore is not murder.”

Jack inhaled forcefully and said, “I have no intention of stopping you, Teal’c. Tanith deserves to die, if for no other reason than he’s a stinkin’, lousy, nervy, deceitful snake-head.”

“Then what is it you wish to say, O’Neill?”

“Just don’t ...” He paused to give his next words a chance to come out fully formed and with as little self-revelation as possible. To complicate things, he couldn’t shake a sense of impending doom. He put a hand on Teal’c’s shoulder. “Just don’t lose yourself in this revenge thing, okay?”

With little effort, Teal’c saw that O’Neill tried to hide his own near loss of self and something else, not quite discernible. “I will not, O’Neill. You have my word.”

“Excellent! I’ll hold you to that. Now, how about we get lost in some cake?”

“I do not believe there is a cake large enough in which to get lost, O’Neill.”

“Figure of speech, T. Mostly, anyway.”

“I do not understand.”

“You will, after you watch a particular Steven Seagull movie*.”

_Scorched Earth_ (Season 4) – episode tag

An emotionally exhausted O’Neill slowly changed from BDUs to civvies in the locker room. He was grateful that the room was otherwise unoccupied because he didn’t want anyone seeing him move like somebody who had been eaten up and spit out.

Not that he didn’t deserve it.

After all, he had made the intentional decision to blow up the Gadmere ship _and_ —gods help him—Daniel. Not to mention putting Carter’s career in jeopardy. He was willing to sacrifice his own career, maybe even his freedom, to save a people he had respected almost immediately and had grown to love. But he respected and loved Daniel Jackson and Sam Carter, too.

“Fuck these no-win situations,” he muttered as he slowly tugged on a shoe.

“Indeed.”

“Oh, Christ!” O’Neill’s heart jumped to his throat where it beat out a fast, adrenalized rhythm. He rolled his eyes and took a quick, deep breath. Scowling over his shoulder at the huge man behind him, he said, “For cryin’ out loud, Teal’c, don’t sneak up on me like that.” He went back to finish his task.

“I did not intend cause you any alarm or fright, O’Neill. As you know, to move with stealth is my way.”

Jack sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Not your fault, T. My mind was . . . elsewhere so I wasn’t paying attention.”

The Jaffa nodded his head once, then sat on the bench next to O’Neill, facing the opposite way. “I am curious as to the outcome of your private debriefing session with GeneralHammond.”

“Well, he’s not gonna court-martial me, if that’s what you want to know. However, next time I take a crap, I get to choose from using _three_ holes instead of the standard _one_.”

Teal’c smiled privately; he had always enjoyed O’Neill’s way of expressing himself. But this time O’Neill was using his gift for humorous language not to provoke a laugh or ease tension but to acknowledge that punishment of some sort had rightfully been dispensed. “It would appear then that you escaped harsh judgment.”

“Ya think?” Jack sighed again. “Dammit, Teal’c. I gave the order to kill Daniel. And I gave it to Sam to carry out,” he whispered, the words shaking with shame and self-loathing.

“As warriors and as leaders of warriors, we have done and felt . . . _things_ that are more difficult than can be expressed in words.” Teal’c paused and closed his eyes. His eyelids seemed to become an internal movie screen, playing back all those times he had done things he found abominable. “I will repeat what I said to you on the planet: DanielJackson made his choice. As did you.”

“So, I made the wrong decision. Is that what you’re saying?”

“It is not, O’Neill. There is no right or wrong decision in a no-win scenario. At best, there is the lesser of two evils. DanielJackson chose to search for an option fully aware that the search could end with his life. You chose to save one people known to us over a people unknown to us. At least killing a friend was for a higher, nobler purpose. It could not be construed as murder because the kill order was based on the ill-conceived whim of a petty false god.”

Jack sat without moving, his arms resting on his thighs, head hanging between his knees. Teal’c’s indirect admission of heart-wrenching and horrific past deeds simply made him more ashamed of his wallowing in self-pity. Yet it still didn’t ease the turmoil he continued to feel.

Several minutes elapsed when Teal’c spoke again. “You know the question you must ask yourself, O’Neill.”

“Yeah, I do. And the answer is yeah, I could. I already live with worse.”

“Indeed we do.”

_Ascension_ (Season 5) – at the Jell-O wrestling establishment

Jack looked at the stamp on his left hand – the same silhouette of a nude woman frequently seen on mud flaps of semi-tractor/trailers. “Classy,” he said in a sarcastic stage whisper. He rubbed his hands together a few times. “You were right about Daniel, T. Well, it’s his loss. What say we go in, Tex?”

“Indeed, O’Neill. I am looking forward to this evening’s . . . festivities.”

Hitching up his pants and bowing his legs, Jack cast a mischievous look at Teal’c. “At least I can make an entrance like a cowpoke.” He gave his friend an exaggerated wink and walked into the club.

Teal’c did the Jaffa equivalent of rolling his eyes before following his friend.

And promptly ran into a human wall named O’Neill.

This early in the evening, the crowd was thin, making it easy for new entrants to see the ring in the center of the large room. Six scantily-clad women were wrestling in red Jell-O.

Instead, the two warriors saw slaughtered men, women, and children. Harsh, nightmarish memories of intentional and collateral damages to people. Trickles, streams, rivers, lakes, oceans of blood swam through their minds.

As soon as he was sure he wasn’t going to puke, Jack spoke loudly enough to be heard over the hoots and hollers. “Um, T, suddenly I’m not in the mood for . . . this.”

“Nor am I,” Teal’c agreed. His words were soft and steady, but the rest of him was melting rubber.

They narrowly avoided trampling a group of four already-drunk men as they left the club. Once in the truck, both of them kept their eyes to the front. Jack sneaked several deep breaths to steady his hand so he could insert the key into the ignition switch. “Wanna stay at my place tonight, big guy?”

Teal’c took his own deep breath and replied, “Indeed.”

They spent the night in Jack’s den, with Jack stretched out on the couch but not sleeping when he wasn’t pacing and Teal’c sitting in a chair but not meditating. They listened to music the entire time. They didn’t speak until dawn when Jack asked Teal’c what he wanted for breakfast.

_Red Sky_ (Season 5) – episode tag

“I see I was correct in guessing you were here, O’Neill.”

In an outside section of Cheyenne Mountain reserved for quiet meditation for SGC personnel to use when the job or being underground got to be too much, O’Neill picked up yet another rock and flung it toward the stars. “I want him _dead_ , T. I want him to pay for those men he killed. They were only trying to help _his_ people, for cryin’ out loud!”

“Why did you not pull the trigger, O’Neill?”

“Hell, I don’t know.”

“Was it because of Elrad’s words? Or the ones of your conscience?”

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes tightly. He could clearly see the rest of the K’Tau village—ordinary men, women, and children going peacefully about their business, caring for each other, growing up, growing old…

He uncrossed his arms then jammed his hands into his trouser pockets. “Oh, hell. _I don’t know_.”

“I desired Malchus’s death as well. He deserved death for the innocent lives he was responsible for ending. But I listened to the words you did not speak, and Malchus did not die by my hand either. The people of the village have one less horror to remember. One day, he will understand that which he has wrought. When that day arrives, will not death have been the easy way out for him?”

O’Neill heard the words the Jaffa warrior did not speak: That death would have been the easy way out for both of them. That they continued to live with what they had wrought over the years, which gave them both—and maybe Malchus, eventually—the chance to make others’ lives right in some way. He stared up at the stars. The rage within him began to dissipate. Several minutes passed in contemplative silence before he replied, “Yeah. Payback can be a bitch.”

“I believe DanielJackson would call that ‘karma.’”

Jack quirked a smile; thanks to years of his and Daniel’s tutelage, Teal’c was practically a master of American vernacular. It was an exceedingly rare occurrence for him to engage in this kind of repartee, though. Jack hoped this would be one of them. “What goes around comes around.”

“Kismet,” Teal’c countered.

“The handwriting’s on the wall.”

“It is in the lap of the gods.”

“Ooh. Kinky.”

“Indeed.”

_Abyss_ (Season 6) – episode tag

O’Neill groaned himself awake to find he was in the infirmary, now without restraints but with a mouth that felt full of cotton, sand, and crap. Slowly, he lifted his head to find a Jaffa standing next to the bed. For a split second, fear and dread pumped through him until he recognized the Jaffa as Teal’c and not one of Ba’al’s minions. “Over?” The word sounded like the listless croak of a dying frog.

“Indeed. You have been asleep for 27 hours and 39 minutes since your withdrawal from the sarcophagus ended.”

O’Neill smacked his artificially-moistened lips a few times in a fruitless attempt to stir up some saliva and resolve the nastiness inhabiting his mouth. “Payback is . . . bitch.”

“We have discussed this before, O’Neill, in other contexts. What has happened to you is a consequence of war with despicable, tyrannical false gods, not a punishment for past deeds.”

“Not karma?”

“Not this time, O’Neill. Not for the honorable warrior I see before me and gladly follow to help those yearning for freedom from oppression.”

O’Neill, already depleted of what little energy sleep had given him, gave a half-hearted harrumph of agreement. Maybe this time, he didn’t suffer to answer for his past but to survive to fight another day, week, year, with renewed purpose, even if was tinged with bitterness.

“Gimme couple days, T.” O’Neill collapsed back into the arms of sleep.

Teal’c remained to watch over his brother. He would be here for him when the nightmares would come, if for no other reason than to remind him that there was at least one Jaffa he could trust.

_Orpheus_ (Season 7) – between the final two scenes

O’Neill knocked and let himself in Teal’c’s private room in the infirmary. A room he hated, because it was the same one he was in during his sarcophagus withdrawal. “So, how are you, big guy?”

Teal’c smiled a gentle smile. “I am well in spirit, my brother. I will be well in body soon.”

Jack returned the smile, though his had a touch of smirky mischief. “In that case, I’m declaring your mojo officially back.”

“Indeed. And thank you.”

O’Neill furrowed his brow. “For what?”

“For your faith in me, that I would find that which I had lost—my cunning and my confidence. And for not prematurely beginning the attack on the encampment. Had you done so, I am certain that many more lives would have been lost because of me.” Teal’c paused, his eyes not leaving O’Neill’s. “For that I am most grateful,” he said softly, the pain of his past infusing the words with hope for the future.

“Forget it, Teal’c. You’d do the same for me.” He rubbed his hands together briskly. “Let’s celebrate. My place as soon as ol’ Doc Fraiser kicks you out. Steaks, beer, apple juice?”

“That sounds most agreeable, O’Neill.”

_Heroes_ (Season 7) – missing scene in the infirmary before Carter visits O’Neill

“O’Neill.”

Jack’s eyes fluttered open at the deep baritone saying his name. “What?” he said weakly. “Christ, it hurts. What happened? Daniel? Carter?” He blinked to clear his vision.

“You were severely wounded on P3X-666. The extent of your injury put into question your survival for a time. You are fortunate to be alive. DanielJackson and MajorCarter are . . . without physical injury.”

Instantly on edge and wary, he turned a little toward Teal’c, which caused his pain to climb a bit more. Vision cleared, he could finally see the blank expression on Teal’c’s face and the dead eyes—which he didn’t like at all. “Whaddya mean, ‘physical’?”

“DoctorFraiser died from a staff wound sustained on the planet,” he stated flatly. “There was only one other major casualty. Airman Wells lives and is expected to recover.”

Devastated beyond words, O’Neill unconsciously held his breath. He returned to his initial position and stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t bear to think of Janet’s death. To look at Teal’c. To imagine the grief his team was enduring. He couldn’t bear to be alive. _It should’ve been me. If anyone had to die, it should’ve been me_. He finally took a breath when he heard his oxygenation monitor’s alarm go off.

“It was not your fault, O’Neill,” Teal’c continued in the same monotone as two nurses inserted themselves around O’Neill’s bed.

“I’m okay,” the colonel told the nurses. “Now, go away.” They did, once the measurement rose to an acceptable level.

“That was _my_ party, Teal’c, so it is _my_ fault,” he spat out sarcastically.

“The enemy numbers were much more than any of us anticipated, O’Neill. It was only following your pre-planned exit strategy with minor adjustments that allowed us to return with so…” Teal’c trailed off, took a deep breath, remained silent.

“Teal’c.” Jack closed his eyes.

“O’Neill.” Teal’c bowed shallowly at the waist then left the infirmary.

And O’Neill began his mourning and Teal’c continued his, as they usually did: alone, even when others were near.

_Endgame_ (Season 8) – episode tag

O’Neill had almost reached his office when Daniel, Carter, and Teal’c caught up with him. “Shouldn’t you three be getting checked out?”

A fuming Daniel grabbed Jack’s arm. “What the hell do you mean, ‘tough choice,’ Jack? If you had blown up the ship, only a few lives would’ve been lost. Now, there will be hundreds, maybe even thousands, gone.”

Walter’s mouth dropped open at Doctor Jackson’s angry challenge of the general.

“Daniel, this is not the time or place to discuss this. What’s done is done. Now, go have your post-mission physical. After that, we’ll debrief.”

“ _No_ , Jack. I want to talk _now_.”

“Walter, hold my calls.” O’Neill stuck his fingers in his ears and began chanting, “La-la-la” until he was in his office. Giving Daniel his best not-now-not-ever look, he slammed the door shut with his foot before Daniel could charge in.

O’Neill let his body sag against the closed door and closed his eyes in hopes of getting the picture of thousands of Jaffa, suffering a horrible death because of his decision, out of his head. When that didn’t work, he put his fists against his eyes and pressed as hard as he dared, even though he knew that wouldn’t work either. He’d be seeing the Jaffa in his nightmares as well.

To make matters even worse, he knew Daniel would never understand—or believe—why he had condemned so many to death. Carter might, but Daniel never would.

****

Daniel’s trembling hand had settled on the door knob when Teal’c’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from turning it. He turned his head to face his teammate.

“DanielJackson, you will cease this behavior immediately. It is unseemly. O’Neill is commander of this base and your friend. For these reasons, he deserves to be treated with respect.”

“But Jack has essentially ordered countless numbers of Jaffa to their deaths. How can I respect him? How can _you_? He should answer for that decision.”

“Teal’c, Daniel’s right,” said Carter. “Not destroying that ship is going to have severe repercussions. He might even face court-martial. And this will probably do irreparable harm to our alliances with the Asgard, the Nox, and every other race.”

Teal’c looked at Walter, whose mouth was still hanging open and whose eyes glared with shock. “MajorCarter, DanielJackson, we will discuss this in private. Follow me.” He, exuding command and confidence, left Walter’s office at a very brisk pace.

As Teal’c’s tone left no doubt that he would brook no dissent, the other members of SG-1 trotted after him.

Teal’c led them to a small storage room several doors down from O’Neill’s office. Fortunately, it was big enough to accommodate them, though they had to stand close together.

“I will speak without interruption,” the Jaffa proclaimed. “Once I have finished, you may speak what is on your mind.”

If anyone under her command other than Teal’c had said that, Carter would’ve dressed that person up, down, and sideways. But this was Teal’c, and such a statement and attitude were virtually unprecedented for the Jaffa. “Daniel and I will keep it shut, Teal’c. Please, go on.” She returned Daniel’s _huh?_ look with one of her own that warned him to silence.

“Thank you, MajorCarter.” He looked at her, then Daniel. “You are very aware that it is O’Neill’s nature to protect his family and others he or his country has deemed worthy of protection. You are also aware that he cares deeply for us. You may think that O’Neill’s decision not to destroy the ship was one of misguided selfishness.

“However, you would be mistaken. O’Neill believes that the fate of this planet and this galaxy depends to a large extent on the three of us. He has repeatedly over the years put himself in harm’s way, at times risking his own life, so that we may survive, has he not? Therefore, the reason for his decision was a strategic one. By not killing us, he has given billions of innocent people in this galaxy a significantly greater chance of living free of Goa’uld oppression. The sacrifice of the Jaffa soon to die will not be in vain.” He tilted his head to one side to indicate he was finished.

“Teal’c, that’s just . . . _insane_. What’s so special about the three of us that we would matter more than the Jaffa? He didn’t take that ship out because his old team was on it.”

“I am aware, DanielJackson, that you continue to recover your memory of the time before your ascension. You may recall that O’Neill shot MajorCarter twice with a zat’nik’katel to prevent the destruction of this base. He shot me when I was in Apophis’ thrall. He even ordered your death when you were on the Gadmere ship. Perhaps you should re-read SG-1’s mission reports to discover what they do _not_ say. It would be wise to review the history of other SG teams as well. A close analysis will give you your answer.”

“Why are you being so damned cryptic, Teal’c?” Daniel’s anger and exhaustion showed in his words and tense posture.

Carter placed a firm hand on Daniel’s forearm. “Daniel, I think I know where Teal’c is going with this.” She shot an understanding look at the Jaffa and turned her focus back to Daniel. “Except for the time you were gone, SG-1’s membership has remained the same. Jonas functioned so well with us because he’d studied all your mission and scientific reports.” Sneaking a quick glance at Teal’c, she saw an approving raise of an eyebrow.

“Somehow, we’re the _only_ team with all the original members, if we think of Jonas as channeling you, so to speak. We’ve survived everything thrown at us for years,” she continued. “SG-1 has by far the best record for developing allies, killing Goa’ulds, making incredible discoveries and analyses, and coming up with solutions to unique situations.” She paused, gratified to see Daniel’s expression change from one of frustration to one of growing comprehension. “Think about it, Daniel. We’ve made a significant difference. But he tried to kill you and me when something . . . larger, more important, than us was at stake. Those—and this—were judgment calls but they were based on long-term goals and whatever the greater good was at the time.”

“Soooo, Jack believes we weren’t expendable this time. Even with the assured destruction . . .” He shrugged. “He’s playing the odds. He is good at it; I’ll give him that.”

“Indeed, DanielJackson. And the odds are excellent that what he has _not_ done today will save many more than will be lost in the next few days and weeks.”

A contrite archeologist wrapped his arms around his chest. “I should go apologize to him.”

“Me too, Daniel. I thought our relationship with the general colored his judgment. Or obscured the big picture.”

Daniel’s mouth turned into a grin that was equal parts angelic and devilish. “I guess that means we’ll have to work hard to prove him right.”

“Indeed.”

****

Carter and Jackson had left O’Neill’s office for the infirmary, but Teal’c stopped at the door that led to Walter’s office. He returned to sit ramrod straight and mummy silent in one of the chairs across from his friend.

Jack sat back in his chair and studied the Jaffa. After a pregnant pause, he said, “Something on your devious mind, T?”

“I wish to confirm that you are . . . doing well. I also would like you to know that I did nothing but increase the speed at which the rest of SG-1 arrived at an understanding of your decision today.”

“Thanks, T, but that’s debatable. And I’m too damn sick and tired to try.” Jack rubbed his face briskly several times. “Ya know, there was a little ...” He stopped abruptly, perturbed that he had let that much slip. It was easy to do with Teal’c, though—to open up when he was bone-tired, emotionally whipped, and particularly vulnerable. When command and consequences weighed a little too heavily on his shoulders.

“Sometimes, O’Neill, one becomes sick of making decisions. And sometimes, the correct decision is made for both the right and the wrong reasons.”

O’Neill sighed heavily. “T, I just sentenced your people to death. I am become death _again_.”

“Do not think you have sentenced innocent people. They are _Jaffa_.”

“That may be true, but it doesn’t help much.”

“I did not think it would.”

Jack emitted a soft, sad laugh. For a long moment, they were silent, both attempting to come to terms with their losses, their actions and inactions, without any hope of even remembering their own innocence that had ceased to exist so long ago.

Finally, Jack said, “Well, you young coot, you better get your post-mission exam done.”

“I thought the expression was ‘old coot.’ Is not one hundred and four years of age considered old on Earth?”

“Compared to Bra’tac, you’re young.”

“Not so young that I could not bruise your . . . ego.” Though subtle, the smirk in his tone was abundantly clear.

Jack opened a desk drawer. Withdrew a piece of paper. Folded it into the shape of an airplane. Calmly, deliberately, launched it at Teal’c, hitting the center of his gold tattoo.

The End

(because this story had to end sometime)

*Jack is referring to _Under Siege_ , starring Steven Seagal. IMO, it’s definitely Seagal’s best, Tommy Lee Jones is deliciously over the top, and the soundtrack is dynamite.

2013

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to CoriKay, beta extraordinaire. Any mistakes are completely mine.


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